


The Kissing Game

by Maraceles



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7481826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maraceles/pseuds/Maraceles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OTP question to end all OTP questions: Who unconsciously holds their breath the first time they kiss, and who pulls back and says, “Breathe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kissing Game

**Author's Note:**

> a stream of consciousness ficlet

Barry's breath is coming shorter and shorter as Eobard approaches him—the pause before Eobard kisses him, their eyes meet. Barry doesn't even remember what oxygen feels like, each millisecond feeling like hours as Eobard leans in, as he tilts Barry's face towards him with light brushes of his fingertips, their lips barely meeting, more breath and heat than the touch of skin, Barry existing on the air escaping from Eobard's lungs. And then Barry staggers minutely, lightheaded and dizzy with it, and Eobard laughs against his mouth, says, 

Breathe, Barry. Breathe. 

Or.

Or maybe it happens differently:

Maybe it's at the end of a battle, and Eobard has finally lost, all his rage and grief falling away as Barry stands over him victoriously. He made this creature, this brilliant being that has become his own destruction—this creature is _his_ and will always _be_ his, and Eobard regrets nothing, not a single _damned_ thing. Eobard was always going to die, but at the hands of the Flash, there is no greater pleasure. And he _will_ take his pleasure in it.

Then Barry lurches forward, his fists tangling in the suit at Eobard's throat, and he's angry, Barry is so _angry_ , and Eobard laughs at him just to see his eyes flare like the death of stars, fierce and radiant and obliterating, at his stunning creation, each cell of its body marked with the touch of his fingertips—a fact that Barry no doubt abhors, that Barry no doubt regrets, and will regret until their memories fade and the Speed Force forgets them both, and that, at least, is a sorrow to be borne. And for a moment, a single solitary instant, Eobard feels a minuscule longing, a tiny, unacknowledged, unrequited desire to be seen by Barry, to be _seen_ and at last to be _wanted_ , in equal impossible measure. And the desire strangles Eobard with unfeeling fingers that dig deep into his throat, nails piercing his vocal cords, so that he can no longer make a sound, so that there is no breath to be found in him, and that is when—

—that is when Barry kisses him.

That is when Barry says, 

Breathe. 

He says, 

Breathe, I know you. 

And Eobard is reborn from the air that escapes Barry Allen’s mouth.


End file.
